


Sleep

by nsynclancefan



Series: The Alternate Life Of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Kidlock, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsynclancefan/pseuds/nsynclancefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only took Sherlock a year to discover how dull sleeping is. His parents can't seem to keep him on a proper schedule, and will randomly find him passed out because he does not have the will power to stay awake. However, Mycroft seems to have a way with him - John too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Word

"Dull," is Sherlock's favorite word. His first word, actually. A year and half in age, and his first word comes out when no one is around to hear it. He makes a mental note to show it off to John the next time he sees him again. He does like those lips pressed to his curls.

It is another late afternoon in which Sherlock has been locked to his room to sleep. His parents became clever, to his astonishment, and made him a playroom, which has all of his interesting things in it. His bedroom now only has his bed and the closet with his clothes. They took the word bedroom too literal.

"DULL!" Sherlock yells loudly, making sure everyone in the house can here him. "DULL, DULL, DULL!"

Apparently, your first word requires summoning of all family members and close friends in the living room, as well as a large performance of the new word in front of everyone. He is eager to pronounce to everyone how dull he or she is. Everyone finds it adorable.

He wants to go to sleep now. People are too dull.


	2. The Bee

When Sherlock sleeps, if his parents can get him to, he has to have his bee. A gift from his grandparents, who Sherlock is quite fond of. He and Mycroft stayed with them for a month while their parents visited Paris for their honeymoon. His grandfather gave him a science set and taught him many wonderful things pertaining to the world. His grandmother would bake delightful biscuits that he would gnaw at while she played the piano to him. He would often fall asleep like that, listening to classical music and snuggling his bee, a biscuit in his mouth.

One of the bests naps he has had.

After one little experiment, that his bee was caught in the crosshairs of, his mother had to take it to the dry cleaners after the washer and dryer at their home was unable to remove the chemical stains.

It had taken them longer than expected to save the bee, so Sherlock had to go to bed without it one night. He was not a happy boy.

"Sherlock, you must go to bed!" His father carries him down to his room, which he had just broken out of. "When did you learn to crack a lock?"

"Dull," is all Sherlock replies as he struggles in his father's grip. "Buzz!"

His second learned word.

"Buzz is being cleaned, now bed!" His father drops Sherlock onto his bed. "You have to get used to life being unfair."

"Dull."

"I can take it from here." Siger turns around and Sherlock peaks his head around his father to see Mycroft in the doorway.

Mycroft walks into the room and smiles at his father. "You have work to do and I have none."

Siger sighs and looks down at both his sons before leaving. Mycroft lays down next to his brother and ushers him to lay down with him. Sherlock does not.

"I will teach you how to say John if you lay down."

Sherlock understood and only had to ponder the offer for a second before complying with his older brother.

~

"I have his bee," Violet says when she comes home. "I drove by the cleaners to have found them just closing up, and was able to get his bee in the knick of time."

Siger greets his wife with a quick kiss. "Thank god. He broke out of his room twice."

"Twice?"

Siger nods, following his wife down the hall to Sherlock's room. "He has an unhealthy obsession with that bee."

"It is the only normal thing about him at this age. Be glad."

"Mycroft was never this way."

"Mycroft had his own special qualities."

"He was normal."

They reach the bedroom and slowly open the door, surprised at what they find. Sherlock is fast asleep on his back, with Mycroft lying on his side next to him, also asleep.

"Never thought that would happen," Violet whispers as she walks across the room and gently takes a seat at Sherlock's feet, "but not complete stunned speechless." She sets the bee down next to Sherlock and leaves the room, but not after leaving a kiss on her sons' foreheads. Sigil still stands in the doorway, speechless. Violet pushes her husband out of the way as she shuts the bedroom door. She pats his shoulder and grins, walking down the hallway. "Help me with the groceries?"

Sigil blinks. "Um... yes. Groceries." He turns away and follows his wife.


	3. Dragons and Warlocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight reference to a twelve-year-old Harry Watson masterbating in the shower. Only put in for comical reasons, so do not get off on it.

“Thanks for watching him for us.”

“No problem Violet. John will love having Sherlock around. He always does.”

“Yes, that’s why you’re our first choice as babysitter. We need a night out and we aren’t ready to have Mycroft babysit yet.”

“You two have fun at the movies and enjoy dinner. We will see you in _several_ hours.”

Violet giggles as she walks back to the car, where her husband is waiting in the driver’s seat. She waves to John’s mother as they pull out of the driveway and drive down the street. John’s mother waves back, encouraging Sherlock to do the same, but he won’t stop squirming to be put down. She gives up the fight and sets him on the ground.

He immediately runs to John’s room, throwing his coat and shoes off in the process. John’s mother can only sigh and grin at his theatrics.

“He acts as if they didn’t spend the whole day together yesterday.”

~

“John! John! John!” Sherlock struggles with the door handle. He is still under two years old and has very small hands. He is sent flying forward and onto his stomach when John opens it from the other side.

John squeals. “Are you okay?” He helps Sherlock to his feet. “You said my name!”

“John!” Sherlock gives him a tight hug, which is recipricated equally.

“So you say Buzz and Dull and John. Amazing!” John leaves a delightful kiss to the top of his head. “Amazing!”

“John,” Sherlock says as he breaks the hug and walks past him to the toy chest at the other side of the room. “Dull buzz buzz dull John John buzz.”

“What?” John stares at Sherlock in a mix of confusion and amusment. “That makes no sense.”

“Dull buzz John!” Sherlock pulls out a pair of hats and two toy guns. “Buzz buzz!” He puts one of the hats on his head and points one of the guns at John. “Buzz buzz!”

“You mean bang bang.” John walks over and takes the second hat and gun from Sherlock, looking down at him and smiling, showing off a couple of his missing teeth. “Bang bang!” He points his gun at Sherlock.

“Buzz buzz!” Sherlock shakes the gun at John and runs around the room, jumping behind objects. “Buzz buzz!”

“Bang bang!” John mimics Sherlock’s movements, jumping around and hiding on the opposite side of the room. “Bang bang!”

They bounce around the room, fake firing and fake dying at each other until John’s room is an absolute cotastrophy and they have no choice but to unite and move out into the hall, where their other enemy lies.

~

Harry loves a very hot shower, one that fills the room with steam. She saw in a recent film a man and woman having sex in the same sinerio. She is currently in the process trying to remake the scene by herself, for that is what every twelve year old does in the shower.

Most twelve year olds would remember to lock the door, though, expecially if they had a younger brother running around the house hunting them, claiming them as the evil dragon of Watson Hill.

“We must be very very quiet,” John whispers to Sherlock as he begins to turn the door knob to the bathroom, hearing the quiet sounds of Harry jumping between high and low octaves. “The dragon is extra smart.”

“Dull.” Sherlock pushes the door open quickly, but quietly, and drags John in behind him. They walk over to the shower curtians, seeing the slight shadow of the “dragon” behind it.

“Oh Henry!” Harry whispers in a slight moan, running her hand down her small breasts and to her pubic hair, which was just starting to bloom. She is about to reach her fingers to the sweet spot when the curtian is whipped open and two little boys begin to scream buzz and bang at her, shaking little plastic guns at her abdomen.

“JOHN HAMISH WATSON GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” Harry screams, grabbing at the curtian and trying to cover her body. The boys continue to fake fire at her until John’s father comes into the bathroom, ushering an even louder scream from Harry.

“DAD GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!”

John’s father quickly grabs the boys by the arms and drags them from the bathroom, avoiding the wrath from his daughter. He quickly shuts the bathroom door.

“JOHN YOU ARE SUCH A PERVERT!”

“He’s four Harry! What else do you expect?” John’s father yells through the door, slightly grinning.

“THIS IS NOT A JOKE!” Harry screams.

John mother runs down the hall in a panic. “What is all the commotion about?”

John’s father chuckles and pushes the two boys toward his wife. “They decided to attack the dragon in its natural habitat.”

“IS THAT SUPPOSE TO BE A JOKE ABOUT MY HYGIENE?”

“Oh, boys…” John’s mother tries not to laugh herself. John and Sherlock exchange glances, confused at what they did wrong. They quickly forget the matter and run down the hall back to John’s room, shutting the door quickly to avoid the wrath of the two warlocks.

John’s parents just stand outside the bathroom laughing.

“IT IS NOT FUNNY! STOP LAUGHING AND PUNISH HIM!”

~

John’s yawns quickly begin to consume him while Sherlock is trying to pile together blocks into some sort of building that touches the sky. They were confided to their room after the bathroom incident, which upset Sherlock more than it did John. He was helping Sherlock with the build, but he could not keep his eyes open for much longer and ended up climbing onto his bed to lay down.

“Buzz,” Sherlock asks, refering to John to hand him another block. When he doesn’t get the block, he turns around and finds John asleep. “Dull.” He stands up and walks over to the bed, struggling to get himself up onto the mattress. He lays down next to John.

“Sleep Sherlock,” John mumbles.

“Dull, John.” Sherlock begins to poke him in the nose, trying to wake him. “Dull, John,” he repeats.

“Sleep!” John grabs Sherlock’s hand and moves it from his face, curlling his own arms tight around his chest. Sherlock does not take the cue and keeps poking him.

“Dull, John. Buzz buzz dull buzz.”

John opens his eyes and rolls away from Sherlock, struggling to get himself under the sheets so he can take his afternoon nap.

Sherlock gives up and climbs off of the bed and back to the blocks. Without John’s help, they quickly fall over and scatter themselves like mines across John’s bedroom floor, which was just picked up just for the block build.

Sherlock sniffles, a few tears welling in his eyes. “Dull.”


	4. A Homework Assignment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being American. Do not know what the British schooling system is like and am too lazy to Google it at 4 AM. Oh, and be aware of the ever lovely F-word. Cheers!

Harry arrives from school tired and hungry. She skipped lunch in a vain effort to loose weight, after that one girl caused an uproar in the locker room when she was trying to change. So what if her butt is larger than her breasts? They’ll grow in soon enough.

Her pride hurt, she indulges in the half of pie left in the fridge, topped with the last of the vanilla ice cream in the freezer. She felt like garbage, and she often did ever since starting middle school. Why do people have to be so cruel?

She takes a seat in the arm chair with her devilish meal and is about to turn on the telly when her mother enters the room.

“No telly until your homework is done. And you are not eating half of an entire pie!” She was using a harsh whisper.

“You usually yell at me when I do something wrong. What’s with the caution?”

Violet points to the couch, and Harry takes a quick glance. She immediately groans. Of course John and Sherlock are _cuddling_ during their afternoon nap, out for all to observe. Damn those two.

“Mother, I had an absolutely dreadful day, again, and I want to pig out to my weeping heart’s delight while watching my crap telly.”

“You can wallow in your depression after your homework is done.” Violet walks across the room and removes Harry’s meal from her lap and returns it to the kitchen. “I’d make it quick so this ice cream doesn’t melt.” Violet returns to the study, leaving the door wide open, just in case Harry got any ideas.

Harry internally screams at her ignorant mother and tries not to rip her hair out. She forces out of her bag her notebook for English with much more force than was necessary. She huffs loudly, throwing herself back into the chair and opening the book to her recent poetry assignment.

_One haiku, one free verse, one rhyming._

If she started to express her repressed rage in her English class, she would surely get sent to a psychiatrist. If she started to express her want of dying in her English class, she would surely be put on high doses of medications. If she started to express her homicidal tendencies in her English class, she would surely be sent to prison.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath, making sure her mother does not hear her coarse language. She once screamed it out at the dinner table, after her parents would not let her forget how horrible it is to get a C on a history test, and got a mouthful of soap.

Harry groans and looks around the room, trying to come up with something to write about that would leave her unnoticed by her teachers as well as get a good grade, just to keep her parents off her back.

Maybe write a haiku about how important technology is in her life? No, most of the class is probably writing about Twitter or Facebook.

Maybe food? Okay, she isn’t that fat.

Possibly animals? Again, most of the class will be writing about that, along with nature sounds or other earthy garbage.

She lets out another sigh and rests her head to the side, staring at the couch where her younger brother is sleeping with his friend on top of him. He looked so innocent and at peace on that couch. While he was an annoying brat half of the time, she loved John to death and would do anything for the little guy. His life was simple, and he spent his time with the one he cared for – Sherlock.

Harry thinks for a few seconds, and then retrieves a pen from her bag and immediately begins to write.

_John and his Sherlock,_  
 _Always in each other’s arms._  
 _They are simple boys._

One down, two more to go. The haikus are always the easiest, and so are the free verses.

_John lays on the couch._  
 _Sherlock lays on the couch._  
 _One is touching the cushions._  
 _One is touching a chest._  
 _One is spread out as an eagle._  
 _One is a ball of lazy cat._  
 _Neither hunts the other._  
 _Neither hates the other._  
 _John lays asleep._  
 _Sherlock lays asleep._  
 _John and Sherlock cuddle._  
 _Like always._

Two down, one more to go. Rhymes suck.

_A hero has a sidekick  
To help him get the chick._

_A villain has many henchmen_  
 _to hand over a pen._

_A boss has a secretary_  
 _So they can become legendary._

_A girl has her diary,_  
 _Because it is so elementary._

_An ice cream has a cone._  
 _Or else it will feel alone._

_A book has a shelf._  
 _Since it can’t hold up itself._

_A cat has its mouse,_  
 _Whom it can chase around the house._

_A dog has its bone,_  
 _Which it can call its own._

_A John has his Sherlock_  
 _Because everyone needs to lean on a rock._

_A Harry has her nothing_  
 _to whom she can cling._

Harry ponders her work. “Well, that’s one assignment, and I actually feel a bit better about myself. Maybe I should do this more often?” She smiles, closing the notebook. “Better to become a poor poet than a poor alcoholic.” She looks at her brother for a short while before moving on to the rest of her homework, anger from earlier slowly fading away.


	5. First Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope no one is confused after reading this chapter. I was trying around different writing styles, so if anyone gets lost, just comment. Further explanations of why Sherlock did what he did in the next addition.

“I hope you will learn more words so we can talk better.”

“Dull.”

“I’m not sure if you mean dull or agreed.”

“Buzz.”

“How about this, when you want to say yes, use buzz. When you want to say no, use dull.”

“Dull.”

“Is that a no?”

“Buzz.”

“You are amazing Sherlock. You learn fast.”

“Buzz.”

“I really hope you learn more words.”

“Dull.”

“No? Words amazing, just like you Sherlock. Amazing things go together, so you should use words to be more amazing.”

“John.”

“Yes?”

“Amazing?”

“…”

“John, talk.”

“…”

“Words are dull, but you aren’t. Me amazing, words amazing, yes, so I use words.”

“…”

“John?”

“How long have you faked?”

“Months.”

“…”

“…”

“Sherlock?”

“John.”

“You an idiot.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“No, John. You an idiot.”

“No, you!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

“You!”

“YOU!”

“YOU!”

~

Harry and Mycroft and their parents can hear a commotion from Sherlock’s playroom. They look at each other as the voices get louder and louder. They quickly stop what they are doing and go down the hall to investigate. Siger opens the playroom door and the group of stunned children and adults watch as two young boys throw stuffed animals back and forth at each other, screaming random words back and forth, that appear to be insults.

“Stupid!”

“Dummy!”

“Blonde!”

“Black!”

“Shorty!”

“Baby!”

Violet and Siger look appalled. Mycroft and Harry are amused. John’s parents are unsure how to react.

“Pig!”

“Dog!”

“Otter!”

“Hedgehog!”

Siger is the first to speak among the group in the hallway. “When did Sherlock begin to use more than three words?”

“Months ago,” Mycroft states. Violet and Siger look behind and down at Mycroft, who is still watching his brother with amusement. “He has conversations with his bee late at night when he should be asleep. I have no idea why he wouldn’t talk normally to everyone else. I am amazed it took him so long to admit it to John.”

“I thought Sherlock was developing normally with his talking,” Violet whispers into her husbands ear.

“Apparently, our son is extremely abnormal.”

“Is he going to be okay, growing up like this?”

“I do not know, my dear. I do not know.”

“He’ll be fine,” John’s mother intrudes their no-so-whispered conversation. “He has John.”

Violet and Siger exchange a glance before returning their gaze to their son.

“We should put an end to this,” Harry giggles from behind her father, “But I really want to film this.”

John’s father and Siger enter the playroom and end the childish battle between the boys and confine them to Sherlock’s room, where they must make up and start playing nice, or else.

“Or else?” Sherlock whispers into John’s ear. “What do he mean?”

“We are in trouble,” John whispers back as the bedroom door is shut and locked.

~

As John’s family gathers their coats in the hallway, Violet goes to her son’s room to retrieve John. When she gets the door open, she immediately smiles at the two boys, who have passed out on the floor together. Sherlock’s thumb is in his mouth, which was always a sign of good sleep, while hugging Buzz. John was spread out eagle next to him, mouth open and soft breaths escaping at a gentle pace.

John’s mother joins Violet in the doorway. She smiles at the boys and regrets having to go down to her son and pick him up, carefully resting his head against her shoulder. John sighs contently, undisturbed from his sleep. Violet picks up Sherlock and lays him on his bed, tucking him in and making sure Buzz is right next to him. She walks from the room with John’s mother and gently shuts the door.

“He will be fine Violet,” John’s mother whispers as they walk down the hall.

“Yeah, I just worry. I’m his mother.”

“And you shouldn’t worry any less. Just know he has John and he will grow up loved by you and Siger and Mycroft, as well as our family.”

Violet smiles at John’s mother and opens the front door for her as she walks past. She gives her a quick hug and John a kiss to the back of his head. John sighs in response.

“Walk safe,” Violet calls as John’s mother heads down the path to the sidewalk, hurrying along to get her son to bed. Violet sighs deeply and rubs the back of her neck slowly, contemplating things. She soon returns inside once John’s mother is out of her view. She locks the door before heading to her bedroom.


End file.
